All Good Things__ - Michael Jan Friedman [62]
Worf stepped forward. He was younger and more hotheaded than the Worf the captain was now used to.
“It would not be mutiny,” the Klingon reminded them, “if the ship’s counselor certified you unfit to command.” All eyes fell on Troi. But she didn’t react—at least, not yet.
Abruptly, O’Brien stood. “Here, now,” he said. “There’s no cause for all this. it’s not our place to question the captain’s orders.”
Obviously, Tasha felt otherwise. She looked at the counselor. “Deanna?”
Troi frowned as she felt the burden of her task. It was all up to her now.
She looked at Picard—seeking information not only with her eyes, but with her Beiazoid talents. “Captain,” she asked, “do you intend to obey the order from Star fleet?”
There were a number of ways he could have handled the situation, a number of ways he could have answered her. But the counselor would detect any attempt at subterfuge.
In the end, he opted for the simple truth. “No,” he replied. “I do not.”
There were gasps and murmurs all around the bridge. Apparently, his officers hadn’t expected to hear him say that.
“I’m sure,” he went on, “that makes me sound quite irrational to you all.”
“Irrational may not be the correct word,” observed Data. “Your course of action so far does not imply a lack of reason, but a lack of explanation. You seem to have a hidden agenda that you are unwilling to share with the rest of us.” A beat. “IfI were to describe you, I would say you are being… surreptitious, secretive, reticent, clandestine—” Picard cut him off. “Thank you, Commander. I get the point.”
Nonetheless, he knew that the android had spoken for his crewmates. From their point of view, he was being secretive and surreptitious. It was time to clear the air.
As the captain spoke, he moved around the bridge, addressing every member of the crew with a glance. After all, if he was going to get them on his side, he had to make them feel like he was one of them.
“So,” he said, “you all want an explanation… and I could give you one. I could tell you that an omnipotent being from another space-time continuum has been shifting me through three time periods… that he has threatened the destruction of mankind… and that it is up to me to save humanity. But you would probably call me insane.”
“Insane may not be the appropriate term…” Data began.
Troi stilled him with a sharp look. “Please,” she told him. “Not now.”
The android stopped, unoffended. How naive he had been during those earliest days, Picard reflected. How artless.
“However,” he continued, “since I can’t give you a logical, rational explanation for what I’m doing…” He turned to Troi. “It all falls on your shoulders, Deanna. Have I really demonstrated a lack of mental competence … or evil intent? Or am I simply following my own conscience… trying to do what I believe is best for the ship, and for the Federation?” He waited while she probed and reprobed his consciousness, scanning for signs of malice or duplicity. She wouldn’t find any, of course.
Still, there were things he was holding back. The counselor would discover that, if she hadn’t already. And having discovered it, she might interpret it as a reason not to trust him.
A moment later, she announced her verdict. “You’re right,” she told the captain. “I don’t sense any mental instability or malicious intent. Therefore, I can see no grounds to find you unfit for command.” She paused. “But I am extremely worried about the actions you are taking… and I would strongly urge you to reconsider.”
Picard nodded. “Your concerns are noted.” Then, turning to Tasha, he said, “You can still attempt to relieve me, if you wish.”
The security chief shook her head. “No, sir,” she responded. “I may be many things, but I’m not a mutineer. If Troi says youare fit for command, then I’ll do my duty.”
It was clear that she still had misgivings about him. However, for Tasha, her duty to her captain came first. Picard was grateful for that.
“Very well, then, Lieutenant. Contact the lead Terellian ship. Tell them we’ll be evacuating all civilians